


Lost In Your Depths

by aeryntheofficial



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Drowning, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28739466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeryntheofficial/pseuds/aeryntheofficial
Summary: She’s used to the luxuries of the modern world - electricity, cars, running water, and what she views as complete normalcy. But after one of her daily runs ends in a fall from a cliff into the icy ocean, she finds herself waking up on the warm shores of a land unknown to her. A land of Kings, Queens, swords, and a certain Dornish prince. How will she find her way back home? Will she even want to return?
Relationships: Oberyn Martell x Reader, Oberyn Martell/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	1. Part 1

The wooded area behind your small home is your favorite place to be in your small town. It isn’t anything special, just a forest trail that leads to a little opening on the cliffs that overlook the ocean. You have made a habit out of running the short trail, making it a personal goal of yours to beat your previous times and see how fast you can complete the route. However, despite your own personal competition, you always stop at the edge of the cliffs to take in the dark blue waters that crash against the rocky outcrop. Which is where you are right now. 

You stand a few feet away from the edge of the cliff, hyper-aware of the lack of safety railings yet not finding it in you to care as you take in the scenery before you. Even though you have seen this same view more times than you can count, it still never ceases to take your breath away each time. The area that the small outcrop overlooks is a large bay area, surrounded by tall cliffs on three sides with tall evergreen trees lining the tops of the rocky structures. Today is one of the nicest days your area has had in a few weeks. The morning sun is shining brightly, breaking through the canopy of leaves overhead and creating a beautiful speckled pattern on the foliage-covered floor. There are only a few clouds in the sky, white and fluffy as they pass lazily through the sky and you look out across the dark blue water. The overwhelming urge to capture this serene moment prompts you to pull your phone from the pocket on the side of your leggings. You hold it up, but frown when you realize you don’t have a good shot. You drop your phone from your view slightly and take a couple of cautious steps towards the edge of the cliff, closer than you usually get but still not close enough to warrant much concern. You raise your phone up once more to try and get a picture when you feel it. 

The ground begins to give way beneath your feet. 

You feel the rock beneath the padded soles of your shoes begin to shift and you feel panic rise within your chest as you try to scramble away from the crumbling edge. But it’s not enough. A sharp cry for help slips from your throat as you fall to the ground. Turning onto your stomach, your hands scrabble for purchase against the forest floor. The multitude of fallen leaves and pine needles keep you from digging in. Before you can fully process what’s happening, you slip from the cliff’s edge and hear the wind rushing in your ears. A terrified scream tears its way out of your chest as you watch the cliff get taller and taller until the cool ocean water envelops you. You immediately start to kick your legs and arms, reaching towards the surface in hopes of getting a breath. But it just seems as the surface gets further and further away as you try to claw your way towards it - as if an invisible force is pulling you down into the inky black depths. Your lungs are burning with lack of oxygen and you feel yourself tiring out, using every last bit of strength you have to kick your legs and move your arms. But as the light of the sun fades and your vision gets fuzzy you are finally forced to take in a deep breath. The saltwater burns your nose and throat but you don’t have time to dwell on the pain before darkness consumes you.

~~

The sounds of waves crashing and a harsh warmth against your cheek is what finally pulls you back to the land of consciousness. It’s slow; everything feels sluggish and bleary as you peel your eyes open, blinking at the harshness of the light the sun produces. You flex your fingers, brow furrowing when you feel the harsh grit of sand under your fingertips. A rasping cough wracks your body as you finally push yourself up on your elbows, a small amount of water expelling itself from your lungs with the action. You cringe at the burn it leaves behind, but find that you can breathe easier as you finally sit up, taking in your surroundings. 

The first thing you feel is confusion as you discover you’re on a beach. There aren’t any beaches within miles of your small town, at least none that look like this. The sand is almost orange in tint, and the water that washes up on the shores, splashing over your soaked form, is a bright blue. It’s nothing like the waters that you had fallen into. You slowly push yourself to your feet, swaying slightly as black dots fill your vision, the blood rushing away from your head. Steadying yourself, you turn your head to look up and down the beach, searching for anything or anyone that can possibly help you. In the distance to your left, you see what looks to be a cluster of buildings. 

A town.

You feel a sense of relief wash over you as you begin to walk down the sandy beach, searching for help. You don’t have to walk far before you finally approach the outskirts of the town, and the closer you get, the more confused you feel. These buildings are made of what looks to be sandstone, resembling a city in the Middle East rather than your small hometown. And even more peculiar, is the group of people you see on the beach a few yards ahead of you. Their clothing is what strikes you first. The women in the group are wearing long flowing dresses that look like something out of a medieval film. The men’s clothing gives you the same idea, tunics tucked into trousers that resemble pirates more closely than anything you’ve seen. You try to ignore the bewildered looks and curious whispers they send your way as you make your way off the beach and towards the town.

 _What is going on?_ You think, an overwhelming sense of panic consuming you as you finally enter the gates.

Everything clicks as you take in the stone age-esque scene before you. The market stalls with vendors selling their wares and produce, the men and women on horseback riding through the streets, and most importantly - the armored guards armed with swords and bows walking down the cobblestone paths. You immediately duck down an alleyway to your right, desperate to find a somewhat deserted area to gather your thoughts. Once you find an empty spot behind some crates, you lean against the wall, trying to calm your erratic breathing and racing heart. Your mind runs over itself trying to find an explanation for what is happening, but you can only come up with one answer, no matter how impossible it seems. 

You are in a different time. Seemingly a time period thousands of years before your own. 

Instead of panicking like you probably should, your mind seems to switch into survival mode. You push yourself off the wall, stumbling further down the alleyway until you are forced to turn left as you near the end. As you turn the corner, your eyes fall onto the multitude of cloths and various pieces of clothing hanging from lines hung between the two walls of the alley. You step forward, hands grasping onto a soft beige piece of fabric and you recall the dress the woman was wearing on the beach. Without another moment’s hesitation, you slip between the cloths, separating you from any prying eyes, and begin to remove your clothing. You don’t know much at the moment, but one thing you do know is that you stick out like a sore thumb in your workout clothes and tennis shoes. Once you have shed your last layer of clothing, you pull the long beige cloth from the line and try to fashion it into something that will pass as a dress. You take a corner in each hand, wrapping the fabric around your waist before pulling it back towards your front. You then tug the two ends up and cross them over one another covering your chest before tying the two ends together behind your neck. While it’s definitely not the best dress you’ve ever worn, it will be enough to let you blend in with your surroundings. 

You let out a small sigh as you exit the alleyway, feeling a small sense of relief as no one seems to give you a second look - until you begin walking further into the city. You haven’t even made it a few yards from where you started when a large hand grips your upper arm in a harsh grip. 

“Stop!” a gruff shout meets your ears. 

You immediately try to pull from your assailant’s grip, turning to see who has grabbed you. Fear wells up in your chest as your eyes meet those of a very tall and heavily armed guard. He pulls you closer to him. 

“Get off me!” you bite, your other hand pulling desperately at the hand wrapped around your arm in a bruising grip. 

“We must bring you to stand before Prince Doran,” he says firmly, jerking his head at his partner before pulling you along after him, unfazed by your attempts to release yourself from his grip.

You look at him bewildered, “Why? I haven’t done anything wrong!” you protest, planting your feet against the ground in a vain attempt to stop the guard. 

Without your shoes however, the ground is harsh on your feet and you stumble forward, falling to your knees before you are yanked up harshly by the other guard. This new position leaves you unable to resist as you are dragged through the city towards an ornate looking building. 

“We are required to bring apostates to Prince Doran immediately.” The guard says simply, never letting up on his harsh grip. 

You can’t even find words to reply to the man, fear clogging your throat and bringing tears to your eyes. You don’t even know what an apostate is - but you know it can’t be a good thing. You only manage to squirm in their harsh grip as you are led through what you assume is a palace, but you can’t bring yourself to admire the beautiful estate as the fear of what is to come consumes your mind. You are finally guided through two large doors that lead into an open room overlooking a lush sprawling garden. You see a man sat in a wheelchair looking out over the grounds, his attention being drawn to you as the guards burst into the room. They push you forward roughly and you stumble, falling to your knees for the second time that day as the guards kneel behind you.

“My Prince,” the guard who grabbed you greets.

The prince, who you assumed is named Doran from the earlier words of the guard, turns his chair to face you three, eyes scanning over your form, “What is the meaning of this interruption,” he asks voice eerily calm.

You hear the guards stand up behind you, “We found her wandering through the markets and brought her before you as instructed,” one of them states.

You watch in silent apprehension as the prince waves his hand, sending the guards away. The room is now empty save for you and the stoic-looking prince. 

“Why have you come to Dorne?” he asks, voice even.

You shake your head, brows furrowing in confusion. _Dorne? What is Dorne?_

“I don’t know what Dorne is,” your voice is quiet, afraid of saying something wrong, “I don’t know where I am-”

“You’re telling me you have no idea how you arrived in Sunspear? That you just magically appeared here?” he sneers, voice condescending. 

You open your mouth ready to tell him _yes,_ that’s exactly what happened but he cuts you off.

“I know slaves are uneducated, but I assumed that one that has escaped her master’s clutches would have been clever enough to change out of her slave attire.”

Your eyes snap up to look at the man in front of you, his words causing a pit to form in your stomach and tears pool in your eyes, “A slave?” you gasp, tears finally falling down your cheeks, “I’m not a slave!” you exclaim, “I washed up on the beach, I have no idea how I got here or where I am-”

“Enough!” he commands, voice echoing off the walls surrounding you.

You shut your mouth so fast your teeth click and you shrink into yourself, hands desperately clutching the fabric of your dress as he continues.

“Lying will get you nowhere,” he snaps, signaling his guards to return to your side, “You will be taken to the dungeon until we are able to determine where you have come from.”

Your eyes widen in panic as the guards haul you to your feet, “No, no! Please, you _have_ to believe me!” you wail, tears pouring down your cheeks at the thought of being imprisoned in a foreign land. 

“Brother!” a new voice halts the guard’s movements.

You watch through your tears as another man enters the room through the garden. He’s dressed in yellow and orange robes, the deep collar of which is accompanied by a golden chain hanging from his neck. He has dark hair atop his head, neatly kept facial hair, and deep brown eyes that seem to stare straight into you as he glances from you back to the prince.

“What is the meaning of this?” his voice is sharp as he speaks to the man he called brother.

“This woman is an apostate, Oberyn,” Doran explains, “she must be returned to her master. It is law.”

Oberyn chuckles lowly, “Since when have we bowed to the unjust laws of others?” he snaps as he strides over to where the guards hold you, “release her,” he orders them, “Now.”

The men release their hold on you and it takes all your strength to stay standing on your sore feet. You flinch slightly when the man - Oberyn - takes your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, turning your head from one side to the other. You watch as his eyes study your face before falling to roam over the rest of your body. And despite the possibly obscene nature of the action, you don’t feel threatened by this man. Instead, you feel a small sense of relief fill you as he drops his hand from your face and moves it to your lower back, guiding you forward to stand in front of the prince. 

“Does she look like a slave to you, brother?” the man asks, tilting your chin up once more, “she bears no mark of a collar. No scars from mistreatment,” he turns you in a circle now, “and she looks as if she eats like a queen,” he observes, and you find yourself trying to place his peculiar accent.

Doran gestures to you, “Her attire, Oberyn -”

“Could have been thrown together in mere moments,” Oberyn interrupts, tugging at the neckline of your dress and you worry for a moment the knot at the back may come untied, “Slave dresses have collars at the top - they are never tied.”

You watch as Oberyn stares his brother down, daring him to argue with his observations. And after a brief and silent argument, Doran sighs, waving his hand absentmindedly. 

“Take her,” he says simply, “Since you seem so fond of her, perhaps you can attempt to get some answers. She claims to have no knowledge of Dorne or how she arrived here,” he tells Oberyn, eyeing you suspiciously. 

Oberyn takes your hand in his own before tucking it into the crook of his arm and bowing to his brother. They both cast you questioning glances when you don’t move. You look between them, your eyes filled with panic before you realize they are expecting you to show a form of respect to the prince. You drop into what is surely a poor excuse for a curtsy before standing once more as Oberyn leads you from the room. You let out the breath you had been holding when the doors close behind you, and Oberyn leads you down the halls. A large and warm hand envelops your own and you can’t help but relax into the gentle touch.

“I apologize for my brother,” Oberyn’s accented voice meets your ears, “he can be short-sighted at times, I’m afraid,” he chuckles. 

But you don’t laugh. Your mind is too busy trying to process the events that just occurred and you feel tears burn at your eyes once more. But before they can fall, Oberyn stops you both in the middle of the hallway and turns you to face him, hands coming to rest against your cheeks gently.

“There’s no need for tears, sweet girl,” he says gently, thumbs wiping at a stray tear that falls, “You are safe here in Dorne.”

And despite being in a foreign land with people and ideals you don’t know…you believe him.


	2. Part 2

Despite Oberyn’s promise of your safety here in Dorne and under his protection, you can’t help the anxiety that bubbles within your chest as he brings you to another large wooden door somewhere within the palace. You expect him to knock to warn whoever is in the room of your presence but instead, he just pushes the door open with ease, guiding you into the room and closing the door behind you. Your eyes immediately scan the room, taking in the ornate decorations adorning the space. The bed is what draws your attention most. The flowing red and orange canopy draping over the top and sides of the bed, as well as a multitude of firey colored blankets and pillows layering the mattress. Most importantly, however, your eyes are drawn to the woman laying amongst the pile of bedding, eyes alight as they fall upon you and Oberyn.

She sits up as Oberyn leaves your side, a mischievous smile adorning her face as she glances from you back to the Prince approaching her.

“Have you brought us another little dove to pleasure, my love?” her voice is smooth as silk, and you can’t help the confused look that crosses your face at her words.

Oberyn chuckles leaning onto the bed to capture the woman’s lips in his own and you blush even harder at the blatant display of affection and look away.

“No,” Oberyn’s rich baritone fills the air, “Not this time, my love. I am in need of your assistance, however.” 

You finally risk a glance at the couple, only to see a small pout form on the woman’s lips, “What a shame,” she laments, letting out a small sigh, “But how may I help you my love?” she sits up straighter now, moving to the edge of the bed.

Oberyn takes her hands in his own, pulling her from the bed and into his arms, giving her yet another passionate kiss.

You look away again, shock clear on your face. _Do they realize that I’m standing right here?_

The woman seems to sense your unease and pulls away with a chuckle, “I think we are making our guest uncomfortable, my Prince,” she teases, voice light.

It feels like your face is on fire as you look back to them, “I just - people don’t usually do that in front of others where I’m from,” you try to explain vaguely.

Oberyn hums, “Ah yes,” he begins, taking a step towards you, pulling the woman with him, “There is still the topic of your origins,” he shakes his head, “But we will save that until after you get properly taken care of,” he turns to the woman now, “Ellaria, would you be willing to show our guest to the baths? Perhaps get her something more appropriate to wear?” he asks gently, nose nudging her cheek as he spoke.

The woman, whom you now know as Ellaria, smiles warmly at you before pressing a quick kiss to Oberyn’s cheek, “I would be delighted to help our guest settle in,” she reaches forward taking your hand lightly in her own, “Come. We will get you clean and dressed…” she trails off slowly, looking at you expectantly.

It’s only then that you realize that neither of them knows your name. You supply it quickly, voice barely above a whisper as you speak. Ellaria smiles widely at you, “A fitting name,” she states, glancing at Oberyn who nods.

“A fitting name indeed for a beauty such as yourself,” he says coyly, lips tugged into a small smirk.

Before you can refuse his compliment, Ellaria ushers you out of the room, casting a quick goodbye to Oberyn before the door shuts behind you. When you are out of the room, Ellaria hooks her arm around yours and begins walking further into the palace. Neither of you says much, she offers you small pleasantries, but you can hardly respond to them. Your mind seems unable to think of anything else other than your current predicament. You are god knows where with no idea how you even ended up here. With each step you take it feels like your chest was getting tighter and tighter with anxiety.

You are broken from your internal turmoil when you feel Ellaria’s gentle hand on your shoulder. You finally focus on what is in front of you, and under any other circumstances, you would have been awed by the scene. It is a large room, several pools of steaming water carved into the stone of the floor. Clouds of steam rise from the crystal blue waters and a lovely scent fills your nose. However, instead of feeling a sense of wonderment, you just feel dull, ready to get this over with so you can hopefully seek some answers.

The woman by your side seems to sense your trepidation and gives you a gentle smile as she walks you over to a nearby pool. She motions to a few women sitting on some benches lining the walls of the room and they instantly stand and approach you both.

“Would you please fetch some soap and a towel for our guest?” her voice is gentle as she speaks, and the girls nod quickly before hurrying away.

It seems like only moments before they return, setting the requested items next to the pool at your feet, and they retreat to their positions on the benches again.

Ellaria once again places her hand on your back gently, eyes soft as she looks at you, “Do you need anything else?”

You pull your gaze away from the pool of water and look at her casting her a small, if somewhat hesitant, smile.

“No, I’m fine thank you,” you say simply.

She nods, “I will be over at the benches with the handmaidens should you need anything.”

You shake your head fervently, “No, uhm -” you clear your throat, “Could I actually have a moment alone? Just me,” you request.

She casts you a confused look but relents nonetheless, informing you that she will be just outside if you need anything. She then walks away, motioning for the other women to follow before finally leaving you alone in the large room. You let out a shaky sigh when the door finally closes behind them, relishing in the first moment of peace you have gotten since you fell off the cliff.

You reach up and tug at the knot behind your neck, releasing it and letting your makeshift dress fall to the floor. You move to sit on the floor in order to enter the pool, shivering at the cool stone beneath you before dipping your feet in slowly. You let out a pained hiss as they hit the hot water, eyes falling to the numerous blisters and scrapes on your feet from where the guards had dragged you through the streets earlier. You then notice that your hands faced the same fate, scrapes adorning your palms from when you had been shoved to the ground in front of Doran. You can’t help the lump that forms in your throat at the memory of today’s events.

Wanting to forget about them for the moment, you slip the rest of the way into the steaming water, sighing contentedly as it soothes your aching body. Despite wanting to take in the peaceful moment, you reach for the soap and begin washing up, the urge to find answers about your situation fueling your actions. The quicker you cleaned up the quicker you can speak to Oberyn and, hopefully, the faster you can get home.

Once you are satisfied with your own cleanliness, you push yourself up and out of the bath, reaching down to grab the towel that had been left for you. You quickly towel down your hair and move to wrap the towel around yourself when you hear the door creak open. You hastily pull the towel around yourself, almost tripping backward into the steaming bath once more. You feel a small sense of relief wash over you when you see that it is only one of the women from before, holding a silken orange and gold fabric in her hand. You watch as she approaches you, holding the item out to you on both arms, bowing slightly.

“What is this?” you ask, voice timid.

The woman looks up at you now, “Ellaria requested that you have more appropriate attire, she sent for this dress herself.”

You reach out slowly with one hand, the other one securing your towel, and take the garment. It’s light and made of a soft silk material.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly. The woman nods but doesn’t leave the room, she simply looks at you patiently.

You look around nervously before speaking once more, a bit more hesitant, “I uh - I need to get dressed.”

The woman looks at you confusedly for a moment before realizing that you expect her to leave so you could dress, she gives you an amused look before turning to face away from you.

 _What is with these people and their lack of personal privacy?_ You think to yourself as you drop your towel and quickly slip the dress on, face flushing at lack of undergarments. God this place is so weird.

“You can turn around now,” you inform her.

She does as she’s instructed and takes your hand in her own before leading you to the other end of the room where there are a few chairs and small tables. You try not to think too much about _why_ there were tables and chairs in a bathhouse as the woman sits you down in one of them. She moves to stand behind you, and you feel the familiar tug of a comb running through your hair.

Your eyes widened in surprise and you sit up straighter, “Oh,” you gasp, “You don’t have to do that-”

A soft hand on your shoulder stops you, “I insist.”

Despite the odd feeling of being waited on like this, you swallow your pride and nod, leaning back in the chair as she continues to comb through your hair before starting to fashion it into some sort of hairstyle.

The woman is still working on your hair when you see Ellaria sit across from you. She sends another smile your way, eyes drifting over you before she lets out a small gasp as her eyes meet the floor.

“Little dove, what happened?” she asks, words laced with concern as she takes in the battered state of your feet and your hands.

You shrug, trying to hold back the tears at the remembrance of the earlier events, “I wasn’t wearing shoes when the guards found me. And they weren’t exactly gentle when they brought me here,” you answer simply.

A discontented look crosses her features and she calls another handmaiden over, listing off a few supplies to her before sending her away again, “I shall have a word with Prince Oberyn,” she says softly.

You shake your head firmly, “No he didn’t - he was the one who stopped them,” you try to explain.

The handmaiden returns with the things Ellaria requested, setting them on the table quickly before retreating. Ellaria doesn’t seem shocked by your words as she reaches for the supplies, which you now realized consist of some sort of salve and strips of cloth.

“Yes,” she hummed in acknowledgment, “But perhaps if I talk to him, he will, in turn, talk some sense into Doran.”

You watch as she picks up a few of the pieces of cloth as well as the small jar of salve and you reach over, stopping her, “Please don’t,” you breath, finding it hard to get the words out in the first place with the thoughts running through your mind and the panic once again settling in your chest.

Her brow furrowed, “Don’t…What?”

You take the supplies from her grasp and sit the, back on the table harsher than you mean too, breathing becoming harder and harder with each breath. You feel tears sting your eyes as you try to regain control of your sense.

“Don’t tell Doran. Please -” you gasp out, “I’m terrified of what he’ll do if he finds out Oberyn talks to him because of me,” you babble.

Ellaria’s eyes are filled with sympathy as she gazes at you before she once again reaches for the supplies you took from her grasp. But you stop her for the second time.

“Why won’t you let me help you, little dove?” her voice is soft as it meets your ears, but it doesn’t calm you.

It feels like the world is closing in on you. You can’t breathe, your vision is blurry with tears, you can’t _fucking_ think straight. It’s just too much. The hands in your hair, the look in Ellaria’s eyes, the once soft fabric of the dress feels like it’s clinging to your skin.

You probably look crazy to the women around you; struggling for breath and trembling so severely that the chair is shaking. And as if what is happening around you isn’t enough, another slightly familiar presence is added to the mix. You barely even notice Oberyn’s presence in the room until you hear his voice echo off the walls. You vaguely register Ellaria standing, motioning towards you before moving to most likely intercept the Prince.

The next few moments are a blur, it’s like your vision goes hazy as you try to focus on steadying your breathing, getting as much oxygen into your lungs as they will allow at the moment. After what feels like an eternity, everything seems to come back into focus slightly. You see that your hands and feet are bandaged, one of the handmaidens walking away with the supplies, as Oberyn and Ellaria’s concerned gazes fall to you.

You take in a deep breath, shoulders shuddering slightly with the action, before letting the air out slowly.

“I just want to go home,” you whisper, tears finally spilling down your cheeks.

Oberyn moves to sit across from you, movements slow as if he is afraid of scaring you off. You watch as he reaches forward, intent to try and comfort you before thinking better of it and sitting back in the chair.

“If you tell us where your home is, perhaps we can help you get there,” he says, voice low.

Your red-rimmed eyes finally meet his dark ones and you shake your head bitterly, “You won’t believe me,” you whimper.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of what I believe.”

* * *

You sit across from Oberyn and Ellaria in their bedchambers, the sconces on the wall being the only source of light since the sun had set hours ago. You look across the small table at the couple, sipping slowly from a glass of water they offered you when you arrived. Ellaria’s expression is one of shock and disbelief, while Oberyn’s is more pensive and thoughtful. You just told them everything that had happened to you today, from the moment you woke up until the moment Oberyn saved you from the fate of the dungeons. You told them how you fell from the cliff as it mysteriously crumbled beneath you, the force that kept you from surfacing in the water, waking up on the beach - everything.

And now you are waiting for their response, nerves at an all-time high for what feels like the hundredth time that day. Finally, Oberyn breaks the silence, reaching forward and pouring himself more wine before sitting back in his chair.

“It is not the strangest thing that I have heard of in my lifetime,” he muses.

Your eyes widen at his words, mouth falling open slightly, “You - You believe me?” you ask incredulously.

He takes a sip from his goblet, sitting it down on the table and casting you a serious look, “I have no reason not to,” he says simply, “Much stranger things have happened in this world. There is magic, dragons, and much more that cannot be explained away by the laws of men, but…” he pauses for a moment, eyes dancing across the room in contemplation, “If you were brought here for a reason, it may not be easy to get you back to your home,” his voice is cautious - weary, as he waits for a reaction from you.

You can’t even find it in you anymore to be shocked or confused, you’re far too exhausted. You shrug lamely, “Brought here for a reason?” you question.

Oberyn picks his cup up again, taking another sip of his drink before resting it on his thigh, finger tapping the rim slowly, “The gods have a mysterious way of doing things,” he shrugs, “Who knows how far their powers reach?”

Words fail you once more. It feels like you’re in some type of fever dream with all the information that’s being thrown at you. Dragons? Magic? You feel bile rise in your throat, it seems to be the only reaction your body can seem to come up with after everything you’ve experienced today. You stand slowly, mind still trying to process what you’ve been told while also trying not to puke everywhere.

“I think…” you trail off, mind sluggish as it tries to catch up, “I think I’d like to go to bed now,” you say quietly.

Oberyn and Ellaria share a quiet look before Oberyn stands from his chair and steps over to you, “Allow me to show you where you will be staying,” his voice is soft as he takes your hand in his own, placing it in the crook of his arm, much like he did earlier when he took you from Doran.

You just nod, too tired to offer him any more words, and Oberyn doesn’t press you. He tells Ellaria he will return shortly and exits the room. He walks you both down to the end of the hallway before turning right and stopping a few doors down. He opens the door, allowing you a view of the room inside before turning to you.

“I had the room prepared while you were at the baths,” he explains, turning you to face him when you don’t respond, “We will help you, little dove. We will get you home,” he promises fiercely, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear and letting his fingers brush your cheek as his hand fall back to his side.

You look inside at the ornate bedroom, not too dissimilar to that of Oberyn and Ellaria’s room, before looking back to the Prince. You can’t help but feel slightly guilty for your earlier breakdown. He has been nothing but kind to you since you arrived: saving you from being thrown into the dungeons, getting you cleaned, and arranging this extravagant room just for you. And you feel bad that you returned his kindness with nothing but eagerness to get away from this place.

You let out a sigh but cast him a small smile as you look at him, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do all this.”

A sly smile works its way onto Oberyn’s face at your words. He takes your hand in his and brings it up to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I only allow the best luxuries for my guests. Especially for one as striking and remarkable as you,” he hums.

You can’t help the warmth that spreads over your cheeks and you pull your hand from him, “Goodnight…my Prince,” you say, the phrase feeling foreign on your tongue.

“Catching on quickly I see,” he teases stepping back and giving you a slight bow, “Goodnight, little dove,” he says before turning and walking back the way he came.

You step into the room, shutting the door behind you. All the emotions from the day come flooding back as the door closes with a click. You want to cry and scream and punch something all at once. But all you manage to do is walk numbly towards the large bed in the center of the room, pulling back the covers and relishing the soft fabric under your fingertips. You slide under the sheets, not bothering to take off your dress, and pull them over you. As you go to lie down, a small ember of hope burns in your mind that perhaps when you wake up, this will all have been a bad dream and you’ll be back in the woods behind your home. But despite this feeling, this yearning to go back to your normal life, you feel a slight tug of hesitation.

Before you can dwell too long on this feeling, however, your head hits the pillow and you fall into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Part 3

For the first time in what feels like a long time, Oberyn wakes up to an empty bed, his lover nowhere to be found. He feels a worried confusion settle over his mind until his eyes fall to the folded piece of paper placed in the empty space next to him on the bed. Taking the letter in his hand, he unfolds it and scans its contents. He lets out a small sigh of relief when he sees his lover’s familiar signature at the bottom of the parchment. Ellaria had been called away to her home in Hellholt, stating that she would be back as soon as possible. She also encouraged Oberyn to spend time with you, introducing you to Dorne and helping you get acquainted with your temporary home. Not that he needs to hear this.

Truth be told, Oberyn is quite enraptured with you, something that Ellaria had noticed from the moment she saw the prince interact with you. Oberyn will not deny this either. You fascinate him, not only because of your unfortunate predicament, but because he can sense something within you. An intelligence and inner beauty that he can’t seem to describe, yet, he is determined to discover more of. He quickly dresses and instructs one of the handmaidens to prepare a spread of food in his chambers before exiting the room and walking towards your chambers. The walk is short, and in mere moments, he is standing before your door placing a few firm knocks to the thick wood.

He hears a faint, ‘come in’ and pushes the door open slowly, afraid of disturbing you despite your invitation. He is not prepared for the sight that greets him. He was expecting you to still be in bed or perhaps doing your hair in front of the mirror. Instead, he finds you sat on the large bed provided to you, a multitude of books and large maps spread out on top of the plush surface. Your hair is no longer in the intricate braids from yesterday, no doubt you had taken them out at some point in favor of letting the strands fall freely around your face. Oberyn doesn’t have long to admire the beauty before him before your small voice breaks the silence of the room. 

Your eyes don’t meet his as you speak, fingers grazing lightly over the many maps laid out in front of you, “Nothing is the same,” your voice is barely a whisper, but Oberyn doesn’t miss the emotion lacing your words, “I thought that maybe – “you shake your head, “Maybe the stars or something would be the same, maybe I could recognize some of the landmasses but…” Oberyn sees your lower lip wobble as he slowly approaches your spot on the bed, “I don’t recognize any of it.”

You finally look up now, allowing the man next to you to see the tears pooling in your eyes. He feels his chest ache with sympathy for your situation. You are in a strange land with no knowledge of how you truly arrived here and each of your efforts to find answers just gives you more questions instead. Before he’s able to think about his actions, he lifts his hand to your face wiping away a tear that had managed to escape before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I cannot begin to fathom your confusion, little dove,” he begins, hand falling to rest in the crook of your neck, his thumb rubbing soothingly against your jaw, “But hopefully answers will come in time. I have my best men searching for someone who may have those answers. However, until then, might I suggest a break? I had a morning meal prepared for us,” he said, voice gentle as he offers his hand for you to take.

You cast a small glance to your research and let out a sigh, a grateful smile tugging at your lips as you look back to the prince, setting your hand in his, “That sounds great actually, I feel like I haven’t eaten in ages,” you admit. On cue it seems, your stomach lets out a loud grumble, eliciting a small chuckle from Oberyn.

“Well then, it seems that I have not been a gracious enough host – letting my guest waste away,” he teases, helping you stand from the bed and placing your hand in the crook of his elbow.

You quickly interject, “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that –“

Another deep laugh cuts you off as you both leave your room and begin walking down the hall, “I was just teasing you,” he assures, “is that not common in your world?”

You can’t fight the blush that creeps into your cheeks, “It is, I just – I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” you explain, “You’ve done so much for me since I’ve arrived – saved me from the dungeons, gave me clothing and a room that is more extravagant than anything I’ve ever had…” you shake your head and turn to face him as he stops you both in front of his chambers, “Thank you. I truly am grateful for everything you have done and continue to do for me.”

A warm smile graces Oberyn’s face as he looks down at you, and you find yourself thinking that you’d like to see it more often. You quickly push the thought from your mind, you can’t think like that. Not when you are hoping to go home and leave all of this behind.

“Well,” his rich voice meets your ears as he pushes the door open, “You are most welcome. Your presence in this world is truly fascinating, but…” he pauses for a moment as he walks you into the room and lets you take a seat at the table before doing the same, “You also seem like good company,” he pops a berry into his mouth, “And your beauty is truly otherworldly.”

Another blush creeps up your neck and onto your cheeks, and you let out a chuckle in an attempt to hide your nerves, “No pun intended?”

He sends you a smirk, “Not in the slightest,” he gestures to you before taking a pitcher and filling your glass with a dark red liquid, “Now please, eat. Then we can begin our activities for the day.”

You thanked him with a nod, selecting a few foods that looked somewhat familiar and placing them onto your plate, “And what activities are those?” you ask curiously, taking a small bite of one of the meats and humming contentedly at the savory sweetness that floods your taste buds.

Oberyn shrugs, taking a few more bites of fruit before speaking, “I thought it a good idea to show you around Sunspear. Since we have no answers of when or if we can get you home, it seems best to get you acquainted with your temporary residence, don’t you think?”

_Home._

The word sends another pang of longing through you, a sense of desire for your own bed and your garden and the forest behind your house. Oberyn seems to notice the change in your demeanor, going from a bright curiosity to a melancholy stupor.

A warm and gentle hand on your own brings you back to the present and you look up to see Oberyn smiling warmly at you, his thumb running across your knuckles slowly, “My intention was not to upset you.”

You shake your head a sad smile adorning your own features, “No, it’s fine I was just thinking is all…I just miss home.”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, “Of course, and I will do everything in my power to make sure you see it again. However,” his voice is small, encouraging as he speaks, “I hope that you can see Sunspear and Dorne as your home until we can return you to your world.”

You give him a small nod, “I will try.”

“That’s all that I can ask of you,” his voice is soft as he settles further into his chair, withdrawing his hand from yours to gesture at the food once more, “Now, let’s finish eating so I can show you the most wonderful place on earth,” he says enthusiastically, a new light in his eyes.

* * *

You spend the rest of the morning being escorted by the Prince himself around the palace and through the streets of Sunspear. He shows you the water gardens, which you decide is one of your favorite places so far. They are beautiful, the bright blue waters prettier than any you had ever seen. However, you find yourself asking Oberyn question after question about every little thing. Life is just so different here than in the modern world, so you have plenty of questions, and Oberyn is patient and eager to answer. It’s only when you approach a building that Oberyn informed you was a brothel did the questions seem to stop. Something he found amusing.

“No questions about this, little dove?” his voice is teasing as he gives you a sly grin walking close to the tall, sandstone structure, making your eyes widen.

“We aren’t going in there are we?” you ask quickly, tugging on his arm to keep him from going any further.

He lets out a laugh, one that sounds like it comes from deep in his belly, and he shakes his head, “No. I did not think you would be inclined to visit a brothel,” his voice is light as he jokes with you, and you couldn’t help the relieved smile that crosses your face, as he turns and starts on a path back towards the palace.

On your walk back, you finally recognize an absence that you feel slightly guilty you hadn’t noticed before.

“Where’s Ellaria?” you ask, looking up at the prince.

“She was called away to her hometown unexpectedly,” he says simply, “She left early this morning, before even I rose from bed.”

You hum in acknowledgment, thinking for a moment before speaking again, “It must be hard being royalty sometimes,” you say finally.

Oberyn looks at you curiously, never having heard such a statement before, “What makes you think that?”

You shrug, “I don’t know I just…It must be hard when one of you has to go away so suddenly like that. If I had a husband and he left me because he had too so suddenly, I think it would be hard,” you say simply, “You must miss your wife, right?”

As you finish speaking, you turn to Oberyn, surprised to find an amused expression on his face as well as a few chuckles spilling from his lips, “What’s so funny?”

He bows his head, a small smile tugging at his lips, “I find the assumptions you make amusing,” he offers simply.

“Are you not married to her?” you ask quizzically, “I just thought –they way you act with one another –“ you stumble over your words, embarrassment creeping up within you, “I’m sorry.”

“No need for apologies little dove,” he assures, “Ellaria is my paramour, my lover. We do love one another but we could never be married. I think we both prefer it that way as well…In Dorne, love is free. You can love whoever you like whenever you like. We are not as strict as the other houses when it comes to love and pleasure.”

“You don’t get upset if Ellaria were to sleep with someone else? Or be with someone else?” you ask incredulously.

He purses his lips, a thoughtful look crossing his face before he speaks again, “I believe you can love many people at once,” he says simply, causing you to nod slowly at his explanation.

Only now do you seem to notice where Oberyn has led you. It’s a small section of the beach that backs right up to the water gardens and the palace, most likely an area just for the ones living in the large building. Oberyn sits down in the soft sand, pulling his boots off and digging his feet into the sand. After a moment’s hesitation, you follow suit, sitting next to him and leaning back on your hands as you wiggle your toes in the warm sand.

You speak up after a moment of silence, “You said that you and Ellaria could never be married…even if that was something that you both wanted. Why?”

He sighs, “Because of who we were born too. I am a prince,” he picks up a handful of sand, watching intently as it runs through his fingers, “Ellaria is a bastard of the lord of Hellholt. My brother would never allow me to marry her.”

A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, “Well I guess that makes sense for a time period like this…”you trail off, only continuing when Oberyn looks up to you, urging you to explain, “I think I’ve at least figured out a little bit. I don’t think I’m on the same planet or in the same universe or…whatever it is,” you begin, waving your hand vaguely in the air, “But this place, this world, seems to be somewhat similar to medieval times in my world. A time of Kings and Queens and Lords and Ladies. From everything you’ve told me so far, it seems to line up. I remember learning in school that Royalty would only marry royalty. Some royal families in England even went as far as only marrying within their family to keep the bloodlines ‘pure’. But that didn’t work out for them very well,” you let out a small chuckle, and you finally turn to Oberyn, “So it’s like that right?” Oberyn couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face as you spoke, enthralled by the information of your world. He nodded at your question.

“It sounds like they had similar customs to ours,” he says, “But you speak of it as if that is centuries passed…Does royalty not exists in your world anymore?” Oberyn suddenly finds himself very curious about your world, eager to know more.

You tilt your head side to side, unsure of how to answer this question but continue anyway, “Sort of? Some countries have royal families, like England for example, they still have a Queen and stuff, but in the country I’m from, we just have a president. He’s not royalty like the kind you’re used to.”

“What is a president?” Oberyn finds himself asking.

You lean back, letting out a huff of air as you try to think of a way to explain this concept to him, “A president is kind of like a king in a way. Except he is voted into office by the people of his country. So, the people get to choose their leader rather than someone becoming the leader by birth right. That’s called democracy – the people voting to make decisions.”

Oberyn lets out a low hum, trying to process the new information. The concept is definitely nothing he’s ever heard of before. The people, commoners, deciding who rules? It sounds like a wild idea to him.

“But,” you start again before Oberyn can speak, “I’m glad I landed in Dorne. From what you’ve told me, you and your people seem much more laid back and carefree than some of the other houses. I think it’s closest to what my world is like, despite all of the uhm…sexual promiscuity,” you chuckle.

He furrows his brows, “Is it not like that in your world either?”

You shake your head, “Oh no. People are usually pretty reserved when it comes to their sex life. They don’t really talk about it to others, they don’t usually have more than one partner – some people do that’s definitely a thing – but it’s not the norm. When people are in a relationship, they are exclusive to that person and that person only. Brothels also aren’t a thing; those are actually illegal.”

Oberyn lets out an exasperated huff at your words, laying on his back with his hands behind his head, “This does not sound like a world I want to live in. Why do you deny yourselves one of the best pleasure lives has to offer? Why restrict yourselves so?”

You follow his lead and lay back in the sand, laying your hands over your stomach as you shrug, “I don’t know really…” you say truthfully, “But earth is a huge planet, and there’s so many other places and countries. I’m pretty sure it’s not like that everywhere. Similar to…wherever we are now.”

“Westeros,” Oberyn offers simply.

You snap your fingers, “Yes! That’s what it’s called. I remember seeing the name at the top of one of the maps I was looking at this morning, but I forgot. I will say it doesn’t look very big…the map stopped the further west it went.”

Oberyn lets out a small sigh, “Yes, when I studied at the citadel, the maesters told me that no one has ever sailed out west and returned. They say that they sailed off the edge of the world, that there is nothing out west.”

You scoff slightly, “I’m sure they didn’t sail off the edge of the world, I’m not sure if it’s the same but where I come from the earth is round. You can’t just fall off the edge.”

Oberyn sits up at this, his curiosity obviously peaked.

You sit up too, looking around until you spot a stick a few feet away. You stand, walking over and picking the object up before motioning for Oberyn to follow you down closer to the water where the sand was just a little more wet. You draw a circle and then a few feet away you draw a larger and longer oval shape to begin sketching out a crude map of the world in the sand.

“My geography is a little rusty so don’t make fun of me,” you joke, smiling when you manage to pull a laugh from the man.

Oberyn watches in stunned silence as you begin to explain the geography of your world, trying your best to explain all the science behind everything as well as trying to convey how huge the world really is. As he sits in the sand watching you point to the different shapes you have drawn and explaining what country it is and giving brief information on each, he feels a familiar warmth in his chest. A fondness he knows he shouldn’t feel but he can’t bother to squash. Your animated movements, larger than life smile, and bright eyes as you talk about your world make his chest ache deep with a feeling that scares him. It scares him because he knows that you may be going back to this world and he will never see you again.

Soon you both find yourselves back in his chambers, paper and ink pulled out onto the table as you are now trying to explain the technology of your world to him. Something that is proving difficult since you don’t really know how any of it actually works.

“So, I guess one of the coolest things that we have that most of us take for granted is electricity,” you start, “Lights are probably the thing we don’t think about often. You can just walk into a room and flip a switch and a light comes on.”

“How?” Oberyn asks, completely perplexed at the idea of you being able to light up a room with such a simple action.

“uhm…” you scratch your head, “I don’t actually know. It just…works. There’s wires and things that just like…connect when you flip the switch on.” A giggle slips past your lips at how silly it sounds, “I’m not being very helpful am I?”

Oberyn can’t find it in himself to tell you that no, your explanations aren’t all that helpful. Instead he asks more questions, full intent on learning everything he can about you and where you come from, even if it is just to hear your sweet voice.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon goes on like this, you drawing pictures of different contraptions from TVs and computers and phones, to things like cars and planes. At some point, food had been brought to the both of you and you continued your explanations as you both ate. Oberyn seems the most fascinated with phones as well as the transportation.

“So, you pick up this device – a phone – and simply pick a series of numbers and you are able to talk to someone hundreds of leagues away? Instantaneously?”

You cast him a large smile, “Yes! Again, it’s something we take for granted but it makes communication between parties so much simpler. Same goes for Cars and planes. In my world the horse and carriage is pretty much obsolete. Cars can get you over large spans of land in minutes or hours depending on how far it is. And planes can get you overseas even faster.”

The man lets out a heavy sigh, and you’re worried that you have overwhelmed him with information as he stands and walks past you to stand on the balcony. It’s only then that you notice that the sun has long set, the moon taking its place high in the sky. You are shocked for a moment at how quickly the day seemed to pass. Not only did it pass by fast, but you found that you rather enjoyed your day with the prince, his presence creates an unfamiliar warmth in your chest. You choose to ignore this realization for a moment in favor of joining him on the balcony, your gaze following his own to look up at the sky.

Oberyn discreetly looks over to you as you take a place by his side, your elbows leaning on the railing as you look up to the stars. The moonlight casts an ethereal glow across your face, making your eyes sparkle and your hair shine in the gentle light. Only your small gasp pulls him from his thoughts and causes him to look at you more directly as you turn to him and point towards the sky.

“We’ve been to the moon! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you that,” you say excitedly, “We have another form of transportation, way less common than anything else but they’re called rockets. We used them to send people to the moon, and two people actually stepped foot onto the surface. The first moon walk.”

Oberyn can’t believe his ears, your people had been among the stars? They have touched the moon?

“Your tales continue to amaze me, little dove,” he says softly, “Your world sounds like something we could only dream of achieving.”

At his words, your demeanor shifts slightly, and a small frown tugs at your lips as you turn to face towards the room again, wrapping your arms around your middle meekly.

“Well, I don’t mean to have misled you but…” you sigh, “We have so many wonderful things but it’s not all great,” you admit, continuing when Oberyn turns to face you fully, leaning on the balcony rail, crossing his arms over his chest.

“There’s war, all the time it feels like. One where six million people were rounded up and murdered just for their race and religion, Countries fighting all the time, political wars, civil unrest in some parts of the world. It’s –“ you let out a huff, “It sucks sometimes. I think I’ve honestly experienced the most peace and hospitality here than I have anywhere in my world in a long time,” you admit quietly, almost as if you were afraid to speak the words aloud.

Oberyn’s gaze softens as he pushes off the balcony and walks towards you, taking your arm in his and walking you towards the door and out into the halls of the palace once more. He places a comforting hand over your own as he guides you and his voice is comforting as he speaks.

“It seems our world’s may not be so different after all,” he slows his pace as you both approach your chamber door, “Yours may have more technology and you may deem it as more civilized but…”he trails off, moving to step in front of you, keeping one of your hands in his while the other rests on the side of your face gently, “Perhaps the people never change…just the world around them does.”

You feel like one of those girls in a high school chick flick as Oberyn stares down at you, his gaze flickering from your eyes down to your lips. As cliché as it may sound, it feels like time slows down for just a second. You take this moment to take in his appearance, not that you haven’t been secretly admiring him all day, but this time you truly look at him. You take in his dark brown eyes that somehow seem to morph into a more honeyed gaze under the torch light. You recognize the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes from years of laughter as well as the dimple on his cheek as he casts you a small, gentle smile. His neatly trimmed facial hair that makes his jaw appear that much sharper. You silently admit to yourself that he’s one of the most handsome men you’ve seen, and that’s the thought that finally breaks you from your revere. That, and the fact that Oberyn is slowly leaning towards you.

Your eyes widen slightly, and you find yourself panicking more than you would like. Out of instinct, you place your hand over his on your cheek, and pull it gently from your face, a flicker of regret flashing in your eyes as you notice the dejected look on his face.

“Thank you for today Oberyn. I truly had a wonderful time, and I think I am starting to get used to possibly calling Dorne my home for the time being,” you voice is soft, afraid that if you speak too loudly, you may scare him off for good.

“Anything for you, little dove. Sleep well,” Oberyn’s voice is warm as he sends you a smile, but it never quite reaches his eyes.

Before you can stop yourself, you reach out and take his hand in yours before he can fully turn away from you. Taking a small step forward, you lean up and press a quick kiss to his cheek before dropping his hand and backing towards your door, “Goodnight Oberyn,” you whisper, slipping into your room before he is able to see the blush on your cheeks.

Neither of you can prevent the smiles that break out across your faces as you sit in your room and Oberyn returns to his own. Yet, despite your momentary giddiness, you can’t help the small feeling of dread that pools in your belly. You shouldn’t be doing this, you shouldn’t be engaging in…whatever this was, with the prince of some foreign land in a completely different world. Not when there is a possibility of you never seeing him again.

You let out a huff as you lie down on your bed, a million thoughts running through your mind, as you turn on your side and pull one of the many pillows into your chest. However, as sleep slowly consumes you, the only thought that you care about is that you wish it was the prince in your arms instead.


	4. Part 4

Time has passed both slowly and in a blur here in Sunspear. Ellaria has since returned to her place by Oberyn’s side from her visit to Hellholt and you have slowly but surely found your place in the palace. You still find yourself with bouts of homesickness, yet despite this, you find yourself falling more in love with this strange place as each day passes.

You have found a friend in Ellaria, spending your days visiting the water gardens or just sitting and talking with her in the flower gardens of the palace. More often than not she became your confidant for all of the feelings coursing through you. She listened to you reminisce about your home despite not understanding a good chunk of it. And you listened to her talk about her daughters and her home…and Oberyn.

The Prince has also become a steady constant in your life here in Dorne. Sometimes he would accompany you when you were with Ellaria and sometimes it would just be the two of you. Something you enjoyed very much, despite your urge to shove your feelings aside. You love the way his eyes sparkle when he is talking about something he is passionate about. You love when he asks questions about your world, often building off of the information you had given him in the past. Yet, these interactions with Oberyn were not always as simple as they seemed. You started to notice the lingering gazes and the light touches that he would give you when you walked through the palace or when he bid you goodnight. The way he would brush a stray piece of hair from your face or when he would glance from your eyes to your lips when you spoke.

Your mind swims with conflict and your chest aches with want and desire whenever these fleeting touches and looks occur. You want nothing more than to act on them, for _him_ to act on them. But you both know the reality of the situation. Your time here in Dorne is limited, and neither of you want to experience the heartache that comes with your departure. You already feel a slight sadness at the thought of leaving this beautiful land behind…there’s no need to add more grief on top of that.

These are the thoughts that plague you as you sit in the gardens with Ellaria for breakfast. The day was cooler than most you’ve experienced in Dorne, and the beautiful paramor had insisted on breaking fast amongst the flowers and fountains. Ellaria was talking animatedly about some wedding that is supposed to be happening in King’s Landing - the capital of Westeros. However, you tune out of the conversation, your thoughts falling to a specific prince as you barely touch your food.

“Is the food not to your liking, little dove?” the woman’s concerned tone pulls you from your thoughts.

You look from her, down to the masticated berries between your fingers and you sigh. You quickly wipe away the dark red residue from your finger tips and sit up straighter in your seat. “It’s not that,” you assure, “I’m just…thinking is all.”

She doesn’t seem convinced, “Well, something must be upsetting you for you to be so…distracted,” she tells you, “You can talk to me.”

You avert your eyes, biting your lip as you contemplate if you really _should_ tell her this. What if she gets angry at you and thinks that Oberyn is somehow being unfaithful to her? After a few moments of contemplation, you opt for the route of truth. Perhaps the woman of his affections can alleviate some of your concerns and questions.

“I was just thinking about Oberyn,” you admit quietly, eyes finding hers hesitantly.

The woman straightens at the mention of her lover. “Ah,” she breathes, “He has grown quite fond of you, you know. He talks about you at great lengths when we are together.”

Your lips part in shock, expecting her to lunge at you in a fit of rage. Yet, her words hold not venom or spite. Instead, she almost seems curious and…resigned to the fact?

“He talks about me? To you?” you ask incredulously.

Ellaria smiles and nods, taking a sip of wine from her cup before peaking, “You have caught the attention of one of the most powerful men in Westeros it seems,” she says nonchalantly.

You squirm a bit under her gaze despite it being kind, “And that doesn’t…bother you?” you find yourself more curious about her reaction than your own interactions with the prince. “I don’t even know what he thinks of me. I could be reading this all wrong, but I don’t ever want to cause problems between the two of you, and if i have then I am so so sorry -”

“Why would it be a problem?” she cuts off your rambling with the simple question, “We are not married,” she clarifies, “We are free to pursue who we choose. _Love_ who we choose.”

You let out a scoff at that, and look away from her once more, “I highly doubt love is even in the equation. The prince simply-”

“The prince simply, what?” a familiar accented baritone interrupts.

You turn quickly in your seat to see that the very man you were talking about has appeared in the gardens, a smirk on his face at having walked in on a discussion about him.

“I-It’s nothing my prince,” you say quickly, cutting off Ellaria before she could speak, “Ellaria was just telling me about a wedding that’s supposed to happen soon.”

You send Ellaria a pleading look, begging her not to say anymore and she just sends you a mischievous smile as she brings her wine glass up to her lips. You then look back to Oberyn who doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, but relents anyways, taking a step towards your table.

“Ah yes,” he says, “the wedding. That is actually what I came to discuss with you,” he tells you, turning to Ellaria slightly, “May I have a word with our little dove in private, my love?”

Ellaria nods and stands from her seat, pressing a quick kiss to the prince’s lips before turning to you. She sends you a look that says she’s not done with your earlier conversation before she walks from the gardens, leaving you and Oberyn alone. He extends his hand out to you, a gentle smile on his face.

“Walk with me,” he says, more of a command than a request.

You comply, and place your hand in his which he then places in the crook of his elbow as he leads you through the gardens and towards the palace at a leisurely pace.

“I have news,” he finally tells you after a few moments of silence. “I have found someone who believes they know of a way to get you home.”

His revelation nearly knocks the breath from your lungs and you stop in your tracks. A way home? You knew that you would most likely find a way back to your universe, but to hear that Oberyn has found someone? Someone who knows how to get you there? It makes the reality that your time here is limited, even more tangible. And for a brief moment, a flicker of hesitation flashes through your mind. And it must show on your face, because a frown tugs at Oberyn’s lips as he looks at you.

“Does this not excite you?” he asks, expression puzzled. He knows of your desire to go back to your home world. He thought you would be ecstatic at the news.

You shake your head, “No, no I’m happy, I just…” you trail off and Oberyn urges you gently to walk again, “I just didn’t think it would be so soon is all,” you say truthfully, before adding the half-truth, “I am very excited, Oberyn. Who is it?”

Oberyn feels disappointment at your words, his heart clenching slightly at the idea of never seeing you again. He had grown quite fond of your presence here in this world, and each day he spent with you, he found his feelings growing stronger. Your laugh, your kindness, your knowledge and desire to learn about his world are just some of the things that have drawn him to you. And the thought that it would all be a distant memory soon caused him great sadness. This isn’t about him though, he reminds himself. This is about you, and getting you back to where you belong, even if it isn’t by his side. So he hides his disappointment behind a small smile, patting your hand gently.

“My contacts have told me of a Red Priestess that claims to have the abilities to get you home,” he tells you, “Although she told them she will not know until she meets you.”

“A Red Priestess?” you wonder aloud.

Oberyn nods, “They are priests that worship the god of light. I have heard many stories of their abilities…but I have not seen them for myself. Some claim that they draw on dark magic to complete their miracles.”

You feel a slight panic shoot through you at that. You don’t know if you even believe in magic, but the mention of dark magic makes fear grip your heart. “Is it safe?” you ask, voice small.

Oberyn turns to you then, sensing the tradition in your voice. His face is serious, voice firm as he speaks. “I will not let any harm come to you, little dove,” he assures you, “I will be with you every step of the way. If it proves to be dangerous then we will come back to Dorne and find another way to get you home.”

You nod, relieved at his words, believing them wholeheartedly. However your brows pull together in confusion as you look at him, “What do you mean come back to Dorne?”

Oberyn sighs, “The Red Priestess refuses to travel to us. She is currently in King’s Landing and is staying until the King’s Wedding is over,” he explains, “Doran has already requested that I travel to the capitol in his stead. You will just have to come with Ellaria and I.”

By now, you have arrived at the door to your room in the palace. The idea of seeing more of this world before you must leave ignites a certain excitement in your belly, but also a small sense of dread. You can’t explain it, but you feel as though nothing but ruin comes to those who go to this city. You turn to face Oberyn, your worried gaze falling to his own, and you feel the dread abate slightly as you look into his eyes. In your time here, you have come to find solace in the umber irises. You are fascinated with the way they shifted from ebony to bronze in the afternoon sunlight, or how they gleam with mischief any time he teases you. And you find yourself finally nodding your consent to the man in front of you.

“Okay,” you whisper, “I trust you.”

He beams at this, and leans in to press a kiss to your cheek before he can stop himself. “Wonderful,” he says, “A handmaiden will be in shortly to help you pack for the journey. We leave in two days’ time.”

And with those final words and a quick squeeze of your hand he is gone. Mustard colored robes fluttering behind him and trepidation stirring in your chest.

* * *

That had been nearly three weeks ago.

Oberyn had told you the journey to King’s Landing would be long, but you never anticipated just _how_ long. In your mind, a long trip was maybe three days tops in a car. But you’ve spent nearly a month on a boat, and between vomiting over the side of the vessel for the first few days and then encountering stormy seas, you were suddenly very thankful for the hunk of junk car you had back home.

You were even more grateful when you finally reached land. So happy, in fact, that you nearly fell to your knees and kissed the stone ground. Oberyn and Ellaria had let out small chuckles when you had fallen happily into the bed at the inn Oberyn had arranged for you all to stay in for the duration of your time in the city. Oberyn had told you that he usually just resided in a city’s brothels with Ellaria when they went anywhere. However, he had remembered your reluctance to even enter a brothel in Dorne and had decided to make other arrangements instead.

“I don’t think I have ever been happier to see a bed in my entire life,” you muttered into the pillows, not noticing when Ellaria left to go set up her and Oberyn’s room next door.

Oberyn let out another laugh as he sat on the edge of your bed, hand falling to rub up the length of your calf soothingly, “You’re sleeping arrangements on the ship were not satisfactory?” he teases.

You lift your head from the soft pillow to send a mirthful look at the prince, “I prefer a bed that doesn’t bob and sway around all hours of the day,” you groan, “I swear it still feels like I’m still on the ship, except this time the Earth is moving too.”

Oberyn chuckles, and you roll over onto your back, sitting up on your elbows as he speaks, “The feeling will go away soon, little dove,” he assured you, reaching out to play with a stray tie of your dress, “If I had known you weren’t accustomed to the open water I could have arranged for us to travel on land.”

You roll your eyes and move so you are sitting next to Oberyn, your leg brushing his lightly, “Well it’s a little late for that now isn’t it?” you tease.

You expect him to throw a jest back at you, but instead he stays silent. A thoughtful look on his face as his fingers drop the tie he was playing with to rest on the juncture to where your neck and shoulder meet. His thumb rubs soothing patterns into the sensitive skin there and you can’t help the way your breath hitches slightly. You know you had told yourself to keep your distance from the prince, your departure from this world even closer than before. Yet, your time spent with him and Ellaria on the journey to the city has done nothing but strengthen your feelings for the man. And, unbeknownst to you, Oberyn is facing the same feelings. He has grown feelings much stronger than intended for you, feelings that run so deep they seem to wrap around his very bones. Yet, he too knows of the impossibility of your relationship.

He sighs, moving his hand up slightly so cups your jaw, moving it up slightly so you are looking directly at him. “We have come to a dangerous place, my flower,” he says, the new nickname slipping easily from his tongue, “And I must keep you safe.”

You feel that familiar pit of dread you felt in the palace all those weeks ago begin to grow in your stomach again. Turning your belly into a churning sea of worry. But you force the feeling away in favor of smiling gently at the prince, placing your hand over his own on your cheek.

“I trust you to keep me safe Oberyn,” you tell him honestly. “You have done nothing but protect me since I arrived in your world…I don’t expect that to change anytime soon.”

He returns your smile, looking down as he nods, “And you are correct in that expectation,” he assures, looking back to you once again, “You must not leave this inn unless you are with me, do you understand?” his voice is firm as he speaks, and it leaves no room for argument. So you nod, despite feeling a slight disappointment at not being able to explore the city.

“Okay,” you agree, “I won’t leave without you.”

He seems happy with this and continues, “Ellaria and I will attend the wedding alone,” you open your mouth to protest this but he stops you with a finger to your lips. “You do not understand, my flower.” he says solemnly, “I am surrounded by enemies here. The grandfather of the king ordered my sister and her children murdered when the mad king fell. And they know I will stop at nothing to get justice for them,” he explains, “I cannot risk letting them know of your existence. The fear of what they would do to you just to hurt me, grips me so tightly, I can’t-” he pauses his rant to let out a shaky huff, gripping your face between both of his hands now, a desperate look in his eyes, “Please promise me you will not leave this place without me. I cannot guarantee your safety if you do.”

The fear and distress in his eyes is enough to convince you to drop the subject and you nod, “I promise, Oberyn.”

He lets out a breath of relief and smiles, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek gently, “Thank you,” he says softly. “After the wedding, we will meet with the Red Priestess, and hopefully get some answers.”

You can’t find anything else to say, so you just nod. Oberyn grins at you again, and leans in to press a quick kiss to your forehead before standing up from his place on the bed. “Get some rest. Tomorrow Ellaria and I can show you the city,” he assures.

You give him a weak smile, as he opens the door to leave, “Okay…Goodnight, Oberyn.”

“Goodnight, my flower.”

* * *

Two days later you find yourself alone in your room. Oberyn and Ellaria had left earlier this morning to attend the wedding, leaving you to find something to occupy yourself with until they returned. Oberyn had assured you they would be back before nightfall, yet as the sun continued to travel further across the sky, it felt like they had been gone for an eternity.

You had tried to entertain yourself with books that you found in the room, but the anxiety gnawing in your chest kept you from focusing. You hated being here. Being in this strange city without Oberyn or Ellaria by your side to provide a sense of familiarity. The only thing that made you feel somewhat safe were the two guards posted outside your door on Oberyn’s orders. That gave you some peace of mind knowing that the dangers Oberyn spoke of couldn’t get to you here. Yet your worry isn’t for yourself. It’s for Oberyn.

The fear of what might happen to him plagues your mind as you stand at the open window, the breeze kissing your face as if it was trying to blow your worries away. Your fingers fiddle idly with the jewelry around your neck, a gift given to you by the prince just the day before when you were out in the city.

_Oberyn and a handful of guards have escorted you and Ellaria around the city all day. It was nearing the end of your excursion when you finally wandered through the open market, dozens of stalls and vendors calling out the wares they were selling and prices to go along with them. Oberyn smiles as he purchases various fruits and sweets that catch your or Ellaria’s eye. But when you finally approach a stall selling jewelry, Oberyn truly sees your eyes sparkle._

_You are immediately drawn to a gold necklace, the pendant of the item is an intricately crafted replication of what you recognize to be the sigil of the Martell house. You had seen it on their flags and banners back in Sunspear. You picked up the necklace slowly, admiring the sun with the delicately crafted spear struck through its center._

_“50 Gold dragons for that piece,” the merchant says, voice gruff as he crosses his arms._

_You frown slightly, you don’t have any money, and this sounded much more expensive than anything else that Oberyn had purchased at the other stalls._

_You smile up at the merchant and move to place the necklace back in its place, “I was just looking, thank you.”_

_You were about to walk away from the stall when a familiar hand reached past you to pick up the delicate piece of jewelry, “How much did you say this was?” his accented voice asked the merchant._

_The man’s eyes widened as he recognized the man standing beside you, and he shakes his head, “Prince Oberyn Martell!” he all but gasps, “for you it’s nothing - it would be an honor for a member of your house to wear my work,” he babbles._

_Oberyn lets out a small ‘tsk’ sound and shakes his head, “I do not make a habit of shorting a man of money for his craftsmanship,” he says, “how much?”_

_Seeing that the man is hesitating to state his price you turn and tell Oberyn instead, “He asked for 50 gold dragons,” you say quietly._

_Oberyn hums, fishing around in the pocket of his robe before handing the merchant more than what he asked for, “Thank you,” he tells him simply before plucking the necklace from the table and guiding you away from the stall back towards the inn. You all only stopped when you reached the alleyway where the entrance of the inn was located, and Oberyn motioned for the guards to go ahead without you all. He then turned to Ellaria._

_“Go inside, my love. I will be in shortly.”_

_Ellaria nods, sending you a knowing look before disappearing into the inn, then you and Oberyn are alone._

_“You didn’t have to buy that necklace Oberyn,” you say softly, as he pulls it from his pocket, “I don’t know how much a gold dragon is worth but it sounded expensive-”_

_Oberyn shushed you with a gentle hand over your lips, and a glimmer in his eyes, “You talk too much, my flower. And nothing is ever too expensive if it makes you happy,” he takes his hand from your lips and motions for you to turn around, “And I didn’t do this without a benefit to me, of course,” he teases, the pendant of the necklace falling against your chest as he joins the clasps behind your neck, “Now you will always have a piece of Dorne where ever you go,” he turns you back around to face him, a sad look in his eyes now, “A piece of me.”_

You feel the familiar sting of tears in your eyes at the memory. Wiping hastily at a stray tear that fell down your cheek. He meant it as a kind gesture, something to make you happy. But all it did was remind you of the fact that you were going home soon, at least that’s the hope. Then, you would see no more of the man in yellow robes, the Prince of Dorne…Oberyn Martell.

“Why do you cry child?”

A yelp leaves your lips at the unfamiliar voice so close to you, and whip around away from the window. When your eyes meet those of a woman dressed head to toe in red, you open your mouth to shout to the guards and alert them of the stranger in your room. However, the woman presses a finger to her lips and shakes her head quickly.

“Quiet now,” she warns, “I’m here to help you. I would not bite the hand that feeds you, so quickly.”

Her words stop you from crying out, but you still keep your distance from her, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Who are you? How did you get past the guards?”

She smiles at you then, “I’m a friend,” she offers vaguely, “And as for the guards…let’s just say that not many men are able to stop me when I want something.”

She moves from where she was standing towards the table to the left of you, and you move opposite her, keeping a distance between you. You watch as she pours herself a glass of wine and take this brief pause to take in her appearance. She is dressed in a beautiful yet simple floor length red dress, a chunky necklace with a large red gem placed in the center, clasped around her throat. She has long onyx black hair that is pulled back in a braid to keep it away from her face. But perhaps what is most striking, are her eyes. Such a bright green they almost seem to glow in the bright afternoon light, and it seems like they can see into the deepest parts of you when she looks at you over her wine glass.

“Do you know why I’m here?” she asks after she has finished off her drink, setting the empty glass on the table.

You shake your head, “No,” you say quickly, “And frankly you never answered my question earlier. _Who_ are you?”

She takes a step closer to you then, and you try to take a step back, but realize you’re trapped between the bed and her, so you watch cautiously as she approaches. “My name is Adriella,” she finally offers, “I’m the Red Priestess your prince sought after for many days.”

“He’s not _my_ prince,” you blurt out, before going silent when she gives you a questioning look.

She doesn’t comment on your outburst, instead she reaches a hand towards you, stopping when you flinch away. “If I was going to harm you, child, I would have done it already. And you would not have known it was me,” she says.

You don’t do or say anything to that, and she takes this as consent to continue her actions. She reaches for you again, placing a cold hand on your cheek, eyes slipping closed. You aren’t sure what she’s doing, you can only watch as her brows furrow in thought, her lips tugging downward in a slight frown before her eyes snap open, emerald orbs meeting your own in a shocked expression.

“You are truly not from this world,” she says reverently, pulling her hand from her face.

You look at her quizzically, “I thought you knew that? Can you get me home?”

She shakes her head, “You do not understand,” she says grimly, “You are not of this plane of existence,” her voice is fierce as her eyes glance around the room quickly, stopping when they spot the lit torch on the wall, “Only the Lord of Light can give me guidance on how to proceed.”

You want to ask her what that means. You want to ask her so many questions, but you can only watch as she pulls a torch from the wall and walks over to the fireplace, tossing the torch into it. You watch in awe as it explodes into a brilliant cloud of fire and embers, the flames climbing up into the chimney until the whole fireplace is engulfed in a ball of glowing orange.

“Are you crazy!” you call, “You’re going to burn this place down!”

Your cries did not phase her, she just stood there, staring into the flames for what feels like hours until the fire vanishes completely. Snuffed out instantly and the smoke shooting up through the chimney and out of the room. It’s like there was no fire at all by the time Adriella turns to face you once more, a pensive look on her face as she walks back over to you. Oberyn’s words of ‘dark magic’ all those days ago ring in your ears and you can’t help but feel a tingle of fear shoot through your spine. But your need for answers is stronger than any fear you could have, so you stay put as the red woman approaches you once more.

“So, strange,” she mutters quietly looking out the window before turning her feline-like gaze to you again, “I’ve never seen anything like it in my entire existence.”

“Like what?” you cry, feeling completely out of control and on the edge of a breakdown if you didn’t get a straight answer soon, “What is happening? Can you even get me home? How did I even get here?”

She turns to you fully when your last question spills from your lips and her eyes narrow, “Have you ever paused to ask yourself _why_ you ended up in Westeros instead of _how_?”

You let out a baffled huff, “Well…no,” you admit, “I just couldn’t understand how I got here. I never wondered why…” you shrug your shoulders, “I just thought it was some fluke. A mistake o-or something. I don’t know.”

Adriella lets out a low hum, “I believe that the Lord of Light is in control of all things…” she begins, “However, there is something even bigger at play here it seems. Something even more powerful than the Lord of Light himself.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration, feeling the beginning of a headache forming behind your eyes. “Can you stop with the riddles and the vague sayings and just tell me? Please?”

She pauses, linking her hands together neatly in front of her before she speaks, “Fate.” she offers simply, “The universe has decided you were needed here in Westeros for one reason or another and it found a way to bring you here.”

You open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off with a raise of her hand. “You desire so desperately to return to your world that you never stopped to think about why you were brought to this one,” her voice is soft as she continues, “You said earlier that he isn’t yours. But the fates seem to think otherwise, and so does the Lord of Light.”

_Oberyn._

You shake your head, “But he isn’t mine, h-he can’t-”

A firm grip on your chin cuts off your words, and you find yourself mere inches away from the woman who seems more intent on confusing you than helping you. Her emerald eyes staring straight into yours.

“The universe fights for souls to be together. Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences,” her words are cryptic and they just serve to further confuse you and the feelings you have for a certain prince. She lets go of you but continues, “I can get you home,” she finally says, “But you must decide if that’s what your heart truly desires.”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I don’t know,” your head falls into your hands and your eyes squeeze shut and you feel like you can’t breath, “I don’t know, I don’t know!”

You open your eyes as you shout at the woman but -

She’s gone.

In the blink of an eye the one person who can help you has disappeared and you fall to your knees on the floor, mind reeling with questions that you have no answers for. And for the first time since your arrival here, you feel your chest shudder as heavy sobs leave your lips and tears cascade down your cheeks. 

And through all the confusion, all you can seem to want in the entire world is for you prince to be here to hold you.


End file.
